Words From Afar
by mccabebabe
Summary: An episode coda for Season 12 Episode 6 "Elliot's Pond" (SPOILER) ... The team is told that Aaron Hotchner has resigned and Spencer Reid is unhappy that he didn't get a chance to say good-bye.


Words from Afar

An Elliot's Pond Coda

CM K (Reid)

Spencer Reid averted his eyes as the train rocked back and forth and his seatmate jostled against him, avoiding looking at her as she apologised for the unintentional invasion into his personal space. The subway was packed; he should have waited until later, he thought. It reminded him of an earlier incident. _When Jason Gideon was killed_ , he recalled sadly. And how he'd subsequently stayed at the office late into the evening every night for weeks. David Rossi had called him on it then, and he'd eventually come to accept that Gideon was gone. He didn't _like_ it, but he accepted it. And now, he noted ruefully, it was happening again; the man who had replaced Gideon as his mentor had left the team.

 _Oh sure_ , Reid thought, the circumstances were different this time. Aaron Hotchner hadn't been murdered in cold blood. No. He'd gone into WitSec to protect his son. And while that was completely understandable and noble in Reid's mind, he couldn't help but feel like he'd been abandoned yet again. He sighed deeply and his seatmate assumed he was annoyed with her and she apologised again.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to disturb you," she offered. He was deep in thought and didn't even hear her.

It had been several weeks since Hotch had left and Emily Prentiss had taken over the unit and Reid wondered how Hotch and Jack were doing. Where had they gone? Would Jack have to make new friends? What was Hotch doing now? It bothered him he couldn't say good-bye. _Again._ It bothered him, but he knew it was for the protection of the Hotchners. While he loved Emily and was happy—and relieved—that she had taken over the team he missed Hotch. And he harboured a bit of resentment that he was once again denied the opportunity to say good-bye and wish him well. He sighed again and winced as the squeak of the subway wheels screeched loudly. The train was pulling into a station and he realised it was his own stop. Hastily, he got up and scrambled to the exit, calling out an apology to his seatmate as he brushed against her knees on his way past her.

He made his way up the staircase to the street level and exited the station to walk the last block to his apartment. Turning up the collar of his coat against the cold, Reid found himself hoping that the Hotchners had at least gone somewhere warm to live out their lives in safety. Spencer pictured Jack happily playing soccer under a cloudless blue sky as his father helped coach the team. A smile appeared at the edge of his mouth as he imagined Hotch calling out instructions to the boys in the same tone of voice he'd used with Reid. Authoritative, yet he'd always been understanding and encouraging. The smile broadened as he recalled several moments he'd shared with Hotch over the years: asking if he'd joined a boy band, insisting he continue with his support group, offering a fist bump when he'd proven a point. By the time Reid reached his apartment lobby, he sported a wide grin and had to keep himself from laughing out loud. He was thankful to have as many good memories of Hotch as he did, even if he hadn't had a chance to say good-bye to him.

Spencer stopped at the mailbox in the lobby and fumbled with his key to retrieve the mail in his compartment. He drew out half a dozen flyers and several newspapers and found one plain white envelope.

He headed up the stairs to his apartment and his eyebrows rose as he read the outside of the envelope en route. There was no return address but the handwriting looked vaguely familiar. The envelope was postmarked Toronto, Canada. Reid knew that virtually every piece of mail leaving Canada for the United States was routed through one of Toronto, Montreal or Vancouver Canada making this piece of mail almost untraceable. He knew no one in Canada.

After unlocking his door, he dropped his keys onto the little table next to it and tossed the rest of the mail and his messenger bag on the sofa. He removed his coat and laid it over the back of the sofa. Holding the letter in one hand, he made his way over to an armchair and sat down.

He took a deep breath and slid his finger under the flap of the envelope to open it. A single sheet of stationery was inside. He withdrew it and opened it to read, and his face broke into a wide smile as he read

 _Dear Spencer,_

 _I know you hate change and I know you hate good-byes, so I just wanted to let you know I'm thinking about you. And that when the scratching is done, I will contact you in a more direct and open manner and try to keep up with your life,_

 _A kicking nine-year-old girl_

-fin-


End file.
